


It's Raining Somewhere Else

by lemonlimone



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Anxiety, Obi-Wan Kenobi is a Mess, Pining, Plot, Slow Burn, TWO IDIOTS, big jedi mullet, oh my god they're so stupid, reader has no idea what they're doing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-15 19:08:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29440950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lemonlimone/pseuds/lemonlimone
Summary: “You’re as arrogant as ever, General Kenobi.”He began re-wrapping your thigh, gently holding it in place while he pulled the bandages taught. His hair was much longer than the last time you’d seen him, now brushing his shoulders and hanging over his face as he worked. You crossed your arms, resisting the urge to reach out and tuck it behind his ears.“And you’ve only grown more stubborn,” there was a beat of silence before he continued, “I’m glad you're alright.”Fight scenes. Mentions of rape. Depictions of wounds. None of it is gratuitous, archive warnings just for good measure.
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi & Reader, Obi-Wan Kenobi/Reader, Obi-Wan Kenobi/You
Comments: 6
Kudos: 43





	It's Raining Somewhere Else

The tunnels were damp and cold. Still water pooled at your ankles and the cold air bit at your cheeks. You squinted through the darkness, wary of the danger you were putting yourself in by simply coming here. You had taken extra care to ensure that you weren’t being followed, but the tunnels were crawling with smugglers and thieves. Stories of people--of women--going into the tunnels and never returning were far from unheard of. They were raped and killed or sold as slaves. You gripped your blaster and stood up straight, trying to carry yourself with the arrogance of a man. You pushed your fear aside. There were more important things at stake. You had to execute this mission perfectly… you felt your breath grow shallow, your lungs constricted. You felt trapped. Not now. Anxiety was not a luxury you could afford. No distractions. No signs of weakness, you reminded yourself as you pulled your feet through the water.

It couldn’t possibly be much farther, you’d been trudging through these murky channels for hours. You glanced down at the tracking map displayed on your gauntlet. A few more klicks west. At least you were close. A tiny part of you was filled with excitement. Anticipation. It had been a long time since you had any contact with the Jedi. Not that any of them would welcome your presence. The sound of your boots splashing through the water bounced off the walls. After you left the Order you cut all contact, for your safety and the security of the council. You wondered if the contact they were sending would be someone you knew. The security of the drive was far too important for the Order to outsource. Maybe it would be a fellow padawan from all those years ago. You smiled at the thought of seeing a familiar face. Your guard slipped as you allowed your mind to wander. Water dripped from the ceiling, creating ripples that dissipated around your ankles. A firm grip enclosed your wrist and pulled you roughly to the side, a hand covered your mouth, stifling your scream. 

Your mind raced, fear clouding your judgement. They would kill you, you had no doubt in your mind, or worse, turn you over to the Separatists. You bit down on the hand over your mouth and tried to wrench your arm from the grip of your captor. You felt a shock reverberate through you. Taser. Unconsciousness threatened to grip you. You tried to reach for your blaster, but your hand was roughly pulled behind you. You dug your nails into the forearm of the creature and threw him over your head, slamming him onto his back in front of you. He looked like a merchant of some kind, probably a slaver, there were plenty of them hiding out down here. You cursed at yourself. Always so easily distracted. 

You shoved a forearm onto his neck and threw one of your legs over his side, pinning him to the ground. He thrashed under your grip, your leverage was slipping and he was much larger than you. He rolled back onto you, pushing the air out of your lungs. Your grip loosened. He pulled himself off of you, picking you up by the throat and pushing you up against the wall. Your hands grasped at his arm, struggling to pry his fingers from you. You kicked aimlessly, flailing as you gasped for air. You fought harder, hanging onto your consciousness with slipping fingers. You landed a kick to the groin, and your attacker grunted in pain. He threw you to the ground. The sound of your ribs cracking echoed through the tunnel. You felt a scream tear from your lungs. You tried to push yourself up off the ground, but he was above you again. 

“It’s been awhile since I’ve had a good, dirty fight,” he chuckled, pulling a blade from his belt, “but you're more trouble than you're worth.”

You reached for your blaster again, but you were dazed. He was too fast. You felt a sharp pain in your thigh and you struggled to push yourself away from him. You couldn’t die. Not here. Not now. Not before delivering the drive. Panic bubbled in your stomach as the man drew nearer, glowering over you, a look of twisted satisfaction on his face. He picked you up and pushed you against the wall. You lifted your chin in defiance as a last act of courage before your inevitable death, your vision was becoming clouded. Dark spots danced in the corners of your eyes, slowly moving inward as you blacked out. This was hardly the way you had imagined your death. You had never envisioned it being glamorous, but bleeding out in a sewer was less than ideal. Your body would probably rot and decay down here, bloating with water and no one would ever know. 

The smell of burning flesh cut through your nostrils before you were tugged into darkness. 

“Stay with me,” a voice said. It sounded distant, like someone was calling out to you from the other end of a tunnel. The words reverberated through your mind. “Come on,” it called again, desperate, “Wake up.” 

Your mind felt murky as you tried to pull yourself toward the voice. Your eyes flickered open but your head lulled to the side, the throbbing pain in your chest and the deep cut in your leg making it hard to keep your eyes open. Sleep sounded nice, you thought, letting your eyelids fall again. Just a moment. Just a moment of rest. 

“No, no, no-” the voice was quieter now. You felt a warm weight on your cheek, “Stay with me, please, stay with me.” 

Why couldn’t you rest for a moment? Your eyes flitted open and squinted at the figure in front of you. Your vision was hazy. You blinked, trying to focus your eyes. 

“That’s it,” the voice coaxed, there was familiarity in its cadence. “Good. Just keep your eyes open.” 

Your ribs were still throbbing and there was a heavy pressure on your thigh. You glanced to see a hand gripping your leg tightly, the murky water around you stained red. You lifted your chin to see its owner. 

Bright blue eyes were trained on you. A strand of auburn hair had fallen out of place onto his forehead. Of everyone they could have sent, of course it was him. You thought, in this moment, that maybe the universe really did have it out for you. Maybe dying in this stinking sewer would have been a blessing. He looked at you with an intensity that could melt steel. 

“I’ll get you out of here, just stay with me.” It was hardly the time or place, but even a simple sentence made to reassure you that you wouldn’t _fucking die_ made your heart pound. 

“Do you have the strength to put pressure on your wound for just a moment? If not I-” 

“No,” you stopped him, “I can do it. I’m okay.”

He nodded, helping guide your hand to your leg. You hissed at the change in pressure. He quickly tore a long strip of fabric from his robe and slid it under your leg, wrapping it tight and tying it fast. 

“You’ve lost a lot of blood, can you stand?” 

“The drive,” you mumbled. 

“What?” 

“I have the drive. The access codes-” 

He snorted, “That is hardly important now.” 

He slid an arm across your back and helped you to your feet. 

Rain fell hard on your backs as you emerged into the dirty city. He pushed you up against a dumpster, a hand over your mouth. You heard the uniform stomping of a squadron of droids pass by. Once the sound had faded he faltered, looking down at you guiltily, a blush spreading across his cheeks. 

“Terribly sorry, the droids- I just-” his face flushed a deeper shade of red. You dismissed him with a wave of your hand. 

“We should keep moving.” 

The pain in your leg grew as you hobbled toward the ship. You knew you were slowing him down, you wished he would just take the drive. You could fend for yourself. The information you held was far more important than your own life. You weren’t so deluded that you would think otherwise. You would give your life to bring down the Separatists, you couldn’t understand why he wasn’t willing to let you make that sacrifice of your own volition. 

A searing pain cut through your right forearm. You stumbled to the ground. He was already leaping into action, lightsaber in hand, slicing the droid that shot at you cleanly down the middle. 

“We haven’t much time,” he said. He slid one hand under your knees and the other behind your back and lifted you to his chest. Waves of pain washed over you and everything went black. 

___

The sky was dark. Ash fell around you, coating the ground. Orange flames licked at the clouds. You stood motionless. You had never felt so helpless. You stared at the city, your eyes peeled open in horror. You felt like your chest was collapsing. You should have prevented this. Your heart was pounding. You should have stopped this. You should have saved them. You should have done something. Cinders floated down, singeing your skin. 

“We have to get out of here!” he said as he pulled you up off the ground. His hair was short. A single braid fell over his shoulder. 

“No,” you yanked your arm out of his grip. 

“What?” he turned to you, “We don’t have time, there’s nothing we can do-” 

“I’m not going back.” 

“We just need to get to the ship-” he said, as he took your hand and tried to pull you toward him. 

“This is my fault,” you turned to the burning city, the flames taunted you, growing higher. 

“There’s nothing you could have done, nothing any of us could have done!” 

“I should’ve turned myself over.” 

“They would have tortured you, they would have killed you.” 

“But all those people would still be alive!” your voice cracked, tears streaming down your face, “If I had just given myself up-” 

“The council would never have approved, sacrifices must be made to bring peace.” 

“The path to peace should never leave so much destruction in its wake!” you cried, “Even you must see that, Obi-Wan!” 

“That isn’t up to you!” 

___

You woke up covered in sweat. Your shirt stuck to your back. You lifted yourself up onto your elbows, wincing at the pain. Your entire body ached. Your head throbbed. You tried to steady yourself as you took in your surroundings. The barracks of his ship, pristine as ever. You stifled a snort, was he even human? You decided that it was little help to anyone for you to lie in bed. Better to get up and make yourself useful. You ignored the waves of pain that washed over you as you moved to swing your legs over the side of the bed, your thigh screaming in protest. You scooted forward and put your bare feet on the floor. The cold metal sent a chill up your spine. You slid off the edge of the bed slowly, as if you could trick your body into standing, but your leg buckled beneath you and you fell to the floor with a dull thud. You groaned and tried to stand up again, but a shooting pain in your ribs and the slash in your thigh were making it much more difficult than usual to get on your feet. You pounded the floor and growled. What good were you if you couldn’t even walk? You reached for your gauntlet and realized it was gone, replaced by thick cotton robes. Your heart skipped. His robes. 

“I didn’t expect you to be up so soon.” 

You whipped around to face him and he took a few tentative steps forward. 

“You shouldn’t be trying to walk,” he said as he knelt beside you and slid one arm under your knees and the other behind your shoulders despite your quiet protests that you could get up by yourself (you both knew you couldn’t). He lifted you up into the bed. You wondered absently if it was his. You winced, the pain in your thigh suddenly white hot, searing through you. A strangled groan escaped you. 

“You probably tore your stitches,” he sighed disapprovingly. He lifted the hem of the robe slightly and looked at you for permission. You gave him a short nod. He began to unwind the wrapping around your thigh. You blanched at the change in pressure and gripped at the sheets. 

“I’m not a medic, but I could hardly let you bleed out,” he removed the wrap entirely and skirted his hands around your leg, examining your wound, his brow knit in concentration. You tried to ignore the warmth of his hand on your hip, the way he touched you, like he thought you might shatter if he grazed the wrong spot. 

“Everything appears to be intact, but please,” he smiled down at you, blue eyes twinkling, “For my own peace of mind, don’t do that again.” 

Your laugh turned into a sour cough, hot pain spreading through your chest from your ribcage. 

“You’re as arrogant as ever, _General_ Kenobi.” 

He began re-wrapping your thigh, gently holding it in place while he pulled the bandages taught. His hair was much longer than the last time you’d seen him, now brushing his shoulders and hanging over his face as he worked. You crossed your arms, resisting the urge to reach out and tuck it behind his ears. 

“And you’ve only grown more stubborn,” there was a beat of silence before he continued, “I’m glad you're alright.” 

Your eyes widened and you sat forward suddenly. “The drive.” You looked around the room frantically, searching for your clothing. 

“I have it,” he said with a sad sort of smile, “I think you tried to give it to me half a dozen times before we got to the ship. I kept telling you it was hardly consequential considering the circumstances, but you wouldn’t take no for an answer.” 

You heaved out a sigh of relief. If nothing else, you had completed your mission. 

“My ship’s power core was damaged in our escape, as well as the communications system. Hyperspace travel is… rocky, and I have no means of contacting the council. We’ll have to stop somewhere to get it repaired before we go back to Coruscant. Besides, I’d like to get you to a medical bay as soon as possible.” 

“I can take care of myself,” you said indignantly. 

“I know,” he said, reaching out and tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear then letting his hand come to rest on your cheek. 

A series of blips sounded from the control room. 

“Excuse me,” he said, pulling his hand away quickly. A soft blush was spreading over his cheeks and lightly dusting the tips of his ears. He turned to leave after awkwardly adding, “Just shout if you need anything.” 

The closest planet allied with the republic was on the outer rim. The mechanic said it would be a few days before the ship was back in working order. He directed the two of you to the only motel in the deserted hole of a town. Short on credits, and with no way to contact the council, the two of you only had enough between you to afford one room. It was dusty and smelled like mothballs and bleach. The planet’s suns were setting when you checked in. 

He wrapped an arm around your waist, supporting your weight as you hobbled toward the bed in the middle of the room. He helped seat you on the edge of the mattress and knelt down in front of you. 

“May I?” he gestured to your feet. 

“I can do it myself.” You tried to pull your leg up so you could reach your boot, but you could hardly endure the strain it took to reach the laces. A strangled gasp escaped your throat. 

“Please,” he said, looking up at you with an unreadable expression, his eyebrows knit together. 

You swallowed thickly and nodded as he leaned back on his heels. He was kneeling between your legs. You tried to focus on the comforter of the bed. Anything to take your mind off of him. He took your right calf first, gently pulling your foot towards him. He untied the laces and pulled them loose enough to slip your foot out. He was so careful. Never touching anywhere that you might mistake for anything more than a simple act of service. Of kindness, but you couldn’t help but wish he wasn’t so prudent, the way his fingers worked the laces with gentle reverence. You traced the pattern on the sheets with a shaky hand, trying to keep your eyes off him. 

“I’m going to try to find you a medic,” he said, a hand on your calf as he slid your other foot out of your boot, “There isn’t a proper medical bay this side of the planet, but I’ll go to the market tomorrow and ask around.” 

“I’ll be fine.” You reassured him, but you weren’t sure if it was a promise you could keep. When you finally looked down at him again, he had the same look on his face, that unreadable expression. 

“I know,” he said, without missing a beat, “but, I’d feel better if a professional took a look at you.” 

You smiled at him weakly. You tried to focus on the peeling wallpaper instead of the way his hands looked running through his hair. 

“You should sleep.” He told you firmly, like he knew you were going to protest before you’d even opened your mouth. 

“Okay,” you agreed softly. 

He came over to the side of the bed and pulled down the sheets for you, helping you under them. Then, he laid down on the floor next to the bed. 

“What are you doing?” you asked pointedly. 

He laughed softly, “Going to bed?” 

“Obi-Wan.” 

“Yes?” 

“You are not sleeping on the floor.” 

“I assure you, this is more than adequate.” 

You sighed and stared up at the ceiling. This was not a battle you were going to win. He fell asleep long before you, leaving you to listen to his quiet breaths and wonder how many poor choices you had made to land yourself on a nearly desolate planet with the one person you had hoped to avoid for the rest of your natural life. You were too tired to dream.

**Author's Note:**

> hope you enjoyed :)


End file.
